Shaking her head, Adaira lay back down. Bad premonitions? Did she think she had suddenly turned into a fortune teller? She had to be imagining things. Everything was all right. Everything had to be all right.
He especially.
Reaching into the loose Indian clothes that felt strange yet comfortable in the steaming heat of the jungle, she touched the crumpled stack of letters that had accompanied her all the way from England. Carefully picking out the only one that was relatively smooth and unrumpled, she stared down at it with a slight ache in her heart. This was the last letter she had received before she had left her homeland. She had managed to arrange for the letters to end up at a friend's house in London, so they wouldn't be intercepted by her father. Otherwise, she would never have received this.
She hadn't had the courage to read it yet.
Come on, Adaira! What are you afraid of?
Bloodstains on the paper. Last words. A death-blow to hope.
That was supposed to be a rhetorical question!
For a moment longer, Adaira lay there, full of hesitation. Then she took a deep breath, gathered her courage and unfolded the piece of paper. In the dim light of the embers, she could just make out the letters in front of her.
Dear Miss Adaira,
When writing to you, I want to fill the pages in front of me with nothing but happy words and beautiful imagery. Yet, now, I find myself unable to, and I am at a loss regarding what to write. For, alas, over the last few days, I haven't had many chances to lie by the riverside, sip drinks and take in the lovely scenery. Nor have I been in the mood, to tell the truth. Recently, the atmosphere in the city has become strange. It has been unnaturally quiet, and whenever I step out of the Red Fort, I receive strange gazes from the people around me, as if I had pigeon droppings on my uniform. Or maybe as if I were made of pigeon droppings.
I feel more and more apprehensive. During the last few days, messengers with reports of unrest in various parts of the country have been arriving in Delhi. People are getting restless, and I feel as if a dark cloud is hanging over the city. Now, even the servants in the fort show strange expressions whenever they see a British uniform. I have a strange feeling, as if something is going to happen soon.
Dear me, look at the nonsense I'm spouting! I am making you worried, aren't I? If so, don't be. I'm sure all of this is just due to my overactive imagination. Soon, this boring mission will be over, and I will be coming home.
Not to England, by the way. To you. I look forward to the day I can hold you in my arms.
Yours forever
Captain James Carter
Instinctively, Adaira's hand clenched. When she noticed, she quickly loosened her grip and smoothed out the paper in her hand as if it were a precious treasure. Maybe, in a way, it was. Sniffling, she put the letter away and gazed up at the patches of night sky visible through the canopy of leaves above. The stars seemed infinitely far away. Just like Captain James Carter.
No. Not infinitely.
Her hand clenched into a fist once more, not in fear this time, but in determination, and she glared up at the stars as if daring them to cross her.
Sneaking a hand into her pocket, Adaira felt the comforting weight of her gun.
I will not be a star-crossed lover. Even if I have to shoot those blasted sparkly things out of the sky myself! Just you wait, James Carter! Wait a little longer. I'm coming for you!
She just hoped she would be in time.
***
The trip across India turned out to be much smoother than I had expected. Whenever we met any locals armed with pitchforks and sickles, all we needed to do was mention that we were heading north to join the rebels, and we received cheers and praise from everyone, along with plenty of good food and helpful suggestions on the most painful execution methods for Britons—some of which were quite inventive, such as cooking alive in a vat of boiling tea. Never in my life had I been so glad for a beard on my face. I was starting to see why Karim insisted on his fashion statement.
Not that I was going to tell my husband that, though. This might just be my imagination, but he probably preferred his wife beardless.
"What are you thinking about, Mrs Ambrose?" a familiar, cool voice entered my ear.
"Ehem, me? Nothing, nothing." Glancing to the side, I gave my dear husband a beautiful smile. "I was just thinking about how long it will take till we reach the edge of this jungle?"
"I am not completely clear about that myself. Wait a moment." My husband turned around in the saddle and shouted to his bodyguard, "Dilī kinī dūra?"
For a moment, Karim conferred with his countrymen, then turned back to his employer. "Tina dina hōra!"
"What did he say?" Adaira quickly urged her horse to my side. "Come on, what did he say?" So far, she had kept quiet for most of the journey. Maybe this was partially due to anxiety, but a big part of the reason was probably that she still didn't speak a single Indian language. Now, however, she clearly no longer intended to keep silent. That look in her eyes...it almost looked like panic. Did she know something I didn't?
"Three days," I quietly translated.
My husband nodded. "And after that, it should still be a week's journey till we reach Delhi."
"A week!" My sister-in-law's face sank and her hands tightened into fists. "Can't we go faster?"
Mr Rikkard Ambrose cocked his head and sent his sister a look. "Are you asking me if I am wasting time?"
Adaira opened her mouth—only to close it again a moment later. Apparently, she did not have the guts to utter such horrible blasphemy. Or at least that's what I thought until a fire sparked to life in her eyes, and she raised her chin. "Can't we just hurry up a little bit? We—"
"No," came his customarily diplomatic answer.
"Not without exhausting the horses." I explained with a shake of my head. "And at that point..."
"...we'd just end up taking even longer to get to our goal." Her shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Lilly. I understand. It's just..."
"I know." In a hopefully comforting manner, I patted her on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm sure that, once we reach Delhi, we'll find your man in no time and he'll be perfectly all right."
In retrospect, I should have probably known better than to jinx myself.
Our journey through the jungle continued. Karim's estimation turned out to be correct. It only took a few days for us to leave the steaming green sauna that was the jungle and step onto open land. After that, our travel speed increased, and we raced through the countryside, only pausing long enough to catch our breath and eat a few crumbs of dried food. After nearly ten days, we received the first signs that our long voyage was finally coming to an end. In the distance, a ridge slowly came into view, on top of which stood several ramshackle buildings.
Bringing my horse to a halt, I pointed forward and leaned over to Mr Ambrose. "Is that..."
"The Delhi Ridge." He nodded. "And the buildings up there are the barracks of the defence troops outside the city."
I felt a sudden chill. "But then why...?"
"...isn't the British flag flying above them?" He urged on his horse. "I don't know either. But I am going to find out. Giddy-up!" Bringing his mount to a gallop, he gestured for Karim and the other men to follow. "Hara kō'ī, mērā pālaṇa karō!"
Immediately, they dashed off. Adaira and I exchanged a glance, and swiftly followed. We hadn't moved half the way yet when Mr Ambrose raised a hand to stop us.
"Get off your horses and leave them here," he ordered in Punjabi. "Move quietly, and keep your heads down. We do not want to be seen."
No one argued with his instructions. Soon, we ducked into the underbrush and approached the top of the ridge, making sure to keep out of sight. Even our three trigger-happy Indian companions didn't object to this. Apparently, they didn't relish the prospect of encountering the British army. At least not while they didn't have a larger Indian one behind them.
It wasn't long before we had reached the edge of the underbrush.
"Now," Mr Ambrose whispered, "not a single sound."
Cautiously, he moved around the big tree that was the last obstacle between us and the army barracks in the distance. Lifting a big leaf out of the way, he revealed the view beyond. On tiptoes, I approached and peeked over his shoulder, only to see...an average camp of soldiers wearing British uniforms?
No!
Those uniforms looked similar to those of the British Army, but they weren't the same. Besides, the soldiers didn't have the pasty 366-days-of-rain-per-year look of my fellow countrymen. Rather, they seemed to be...tanned?
Heck! Those weren't Britons!
"Sepoys," growled Mr Ambrose, who seemed to have come to the same conclusion.
I frowned. "But sepoys are the auxiliary troops of the British East India Company. If they are sepoys, why aren't they flying the flag...of...the..."
My voice trailed off. A moment later, our eyes met, and I could see my husband had had the same thought as I.
Unfortunately, we weren't the only ones.
"Rebels!" one of our three Indian friends happily exclaimed. "Fellow freedom fighters! Quick, everyone, let's go out to join them and—"
Mr Ambrose was quick to react. He lifted his hand and made a single, decisive gesture. Immediately, Karim stepped up behind his three countrymen, the butt of his sabre raised.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The three men's eyes rolled up into their heads and they slumped to the ground like marionettes with their strings cut. Mr Ambrose nodded in satisfaction.
"I think our three friends are tired and could use some rest behind those bushes over there." He glanced around at Karim, Adaira and me. "Unless anyone here wants to join the rebel army and slaughter some Britons?"
"No, thank you." I shook my head.
"Definitely not," Adaira agreed.
Karim hesitated. "Well...actually, I—"
"Let me rephrase that. Does anyone here want to join the rebel army and slaughter some Britons while still receiving salary from me?"
The bodyguard straightened. "Certainly not, Sahib."
"Adequate. Now, we're going to find a weak spot in their lines, and we're going to sneak into that city without staging any rebellions. Any objections?"
"None whatsoever, Sahib!"
"Then let's go."
He motioned for us to follow, and Adaira and I did so immediately. Karim was a little slower, and...was that a slightly regretful expression on his face? Poor man. No squashing Britons for him today, I supposed.
We continued to move through the underbrush, along the ridge and the edge of the rebel encampment, looking for a gap to exploit. To no avail, however. The rebels' barracks and tents were tightly packed, and there was no way across the ridge that I could see. More importantly, though...
"What is happening over there?" I whispered, squinting through the leaves. Men were scurrying around between the barracks, shouting and cursing. With all its activity, the camp resembled a beehive more than anything else. "Why are they so busy?"
"Probably preparing to besiege the city." Stopping beside me for a moment, Mr Ambrose swept an assessing gaze over the forces in the distance. "Delhi has a city wall, after all. As long as the British hold the place, the rebels can't just walk in there. But planning a siege isn't an easy thing. The sepoys will probably be busy for a while. If we want to have a chance to get the captain out of here alive—"
"—we have to act now," Adaira finished the sentence. "What can we do?"
"We're not going to get over the ridge. It is too tightly guarded. Let's circumvent it and head down there." He pointed at the broad river sparkling in the sunlight down below. It hugged the city wall on the side opposite the ridge, blocking all access to the city from that direction except for a single bridge. "If we can find a boat down there, we can cross the river and get access to the city from the other direction via the bridge. From what I can see, the rebels on that side are stationed some distance away from the city. We only need to keep close to the river and the bridge, and they most likely won't notice us."
"Sounds good to me." Adaira nodded. "Lilly?"
"No objections. We look like locals anyway. If we don't try to march straight through their camp, I doubt those rebels would pay much attention to us—well, other than trying to recruit us, maybe."
Adaira winced. "Let's avoid that, shall we? I don't particularly relish the thought of being part of the army that plans to kill off my husband-to-be."
Mr Ambrose cocked his head, suddenly looking contemplative. Out of the corner of his eyes, he glanced at Karim, and I could practically read the thoughts on his stony face: Suddenly, fighting in an Indian rebel army intent on slaughtering Britons doesn't sound so bad after all. Want to join?
Apparently, I was not the only one to guess his thoughts.
"Let's avoid that, shall we?" Adaira repeated, giving her brother a poignant look. "Right, Rick?"
"Ehem. Right." Straightening, he turned away to stare at the distant river, which (purely coincidentally, of course) allowed him to avoid his sister's gaze. "Let's move. We don't have any time to waste."
Making our way down to the river and finding a boat didn't turn out to be difficult. There were plenty of merchants down at the river, trying to peddle their goods to the army in the barracks. None of them really noticed when we mixed in among them, nor did they mind offering passage across the river to four people who were both willing and able to pay.
Mr Ambrose had been right. On the other side of the river, there were no troops stationed this close to the city. There were some on the distant hills, but they were too far away to notice us. Moving through the reeds along the river, we made our way towards the bridge and the gate beyond.
The open gate.
My eyes widened as I stared at the wide open gate, flabbergasted. And judging by the expression on Adaira's face, I wasn't the only one to feel that way.
"What the...?!" Taking a tremulous step forward, she stared at the entrance to the city. "Isn't this place supposed to be under siege?"
I nodded grimly. "It is."
"But if the gate is open, that means...that means..."
My shoulders sagged. "The city has already fallen."
"But...that's not right." Adaira frowned. "I'm no expert in war, but if the rebel army had attacked and stormed the city, wouldn't there be some signs of fighting? Blood, smoke, rubble?"
"Not if there was an uprising inside the city." I narrowed my eyes at the towering gate that showed no signs of damage. I couldn't see much of what was happening beyond, but the absence of British soldiers at the gate was telling. "After all, this entire country is rebelling against the East India Company. Why should the city be any different?"
"But then..." Adaira's hands clenched into fists. "Is James even still alive?"
"Right now, we can say nothing for sure." Placing a hand on his sister's shoulder, Mr Ambrose stepped towards his horse and leapt up into the saddle. "You two stay here. I'll scout ahead."
My head whipped around to stare at him. "What? You can't! We've no idea what's happening inside that city and—"
"No argument, Mrs Ambrose!" With one of those looks that could silence an entire boardroom full of people, Mr Rikkard Ambrose leaned down from his mount and touched the only part of my cheek not covered by a fake beard. "Stay here. I'll be right back."
Then he pulled his horse around and dashed towards the city gate.
I turned towards Karim—who immediately nodded. "Don't worry. I'll look after him."
Throwing him a grateful glance, I nodded, and watched as he urged on his horse forward to follow his employer. Only I and Adaira remained behind. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my sister-in-law pacing up and down anxiously, and I didn't really blame her. Something was off about this situation.
Suddenly, Adaira froze in mid-step.
"Lilly?"
"Yes?"
"It just occurred to me...if the city rebelled from within, why is there still another army in front of the city now?"
I frowned. "Because Delhi is the best rallying point for all the revolutionaries in the country, most likely. Rebels from all over the place will gather here, and once they find out that the gates of the city are already wide open, they'll probably—"
My eyes widened at the sudden realisation that had struck me. I was about to curse when Adaira grabbed my arm.
"Lilly look!"
Taken aback by her tone, I turned towards Adaira, only to see her face turn pale as a sheet. With a trembling arm, she pointed back up the road, towards the hills in the distance. Already having a foreboding of what I might be about to see, I followed her arm with my gaze and felt the colour drain from my own face.
Men. Tens of thousands of armed men were streaming down the hills towards the city. And they weren't just soldiers. There were peasants armed with sickles, riders on horseback who looked like local nobles, even one person riding on an elephant! A bloody big elephant, with bloody big tusks!
"L-Lilly, we—"
"—run," I completed her sentence. "We run. Up on your horse, now!"
"Run? Where the hell to?!"
My head whipped back and forth. She was right. We were already on the bridge that led straight to the gate, trapped between an army of rebels and a city full of rebels. No way to evade. We only had two choices now.
Once again, I glanced at the big elephant that was quickly approaching, followed by a massive army.
Correction: one choice.
"Into the city. Now!"
"What?!"
"You heard me!"
"Are you insane? That place is full of bloodthirsty rebels!"
"But not full of elephants who are about to trample us to death! Now move!"
Apparently convinced by my eloquent argument, she didn't waste any more time and climbed into the saddle. In a blink, we were racing towards the gate, and it didn't take long to catch up with Karim and my husband, who didn't seem to have noticed anything yet and were still trying to approach the gate slowly and inconspicuously. That changed when the two of us charged past them not-so-inconspicuously.
"Wha—"
"Run!" I shouted, not even bothering to stop. "Run, both of you!"
My husband only threw one glance over his shoulder and immediately whipped his horse into a gallop. Karim followed suit, and they soon caught up to us. Steering my galloping mount to Mr Ambrose's side, I headed straight towards the gate. No one stopped us. No one was even stationed at the city entrance. Not wasting a second, we raced through the shadowy archway of the city gate onto the square beyond and saw...
Another big group of rebels heading straight towards us. Drat.
"Sab log!" an unfamiliar voice suddenly shouted over the din of the crowd. "Chalo sena ko salaam karate hain!"
That wasn't Punjabi. It wasn't any other language I was familiar with either. But, seeing as the shout had come from the man leading the mob of rebels straight towards us, there were more pressing matters on my mind than an accurate translation.
"Bloody hell!" Heart thudding in my chest, I desperately looked left and right for any way out—but I didn't get the chance to find one. Within the blink of an eye, the crowd was already upon us, swarming all around us, pushing me away from my husband.
"Mr A—Satish!" I called out, changing my words at the last possible second. Not that anyone in the chaotic crowd noticed or cared. They just rushed past us, pushing us farther apart with every single second.
"Take my hand!" Straining to reach out to me over the heads of the crowd, he offered his hand. Without a second's hesitation, I grabbed it. The moment my hand was in his, he pulled hard. It almost felt as if he'd yanked my arm out of its socket—but I didn't complain, because, in the very next second, I sailed through the air towards him and landed safely in his arms. Somehow, despite the nervous horse shifting beneath us, I managed to grab hold of him and slide into the saddle behind him. Clamping my arms around his waist, I only just kept myself from plummeting head-first towards the pavement.
"Help!"
My head whipped around, eyes searching for the source of the distinctly non-Punjabi, non-Urdu cry for aid—only to see Adaira clinging onto her bucking horse by the skin of her teeth. In my arms, I felt Mr Ambrose stiffen. Only a split second later, he flicked the reins and forced his horse forward.
"Hold tight!"
The next moment, we were ploughing through the crowd towards Adaira, hurling people right and left. For a moment, it worked. Shouts rose from the crowd, people stumbled back—but then a new wave of excited soldiers swept towards the gatehouse, eager to welcome the arriving rebel army. With a startled whinny, our horse reared up and nearly threw us off.
And ours wasn't the only one.
"Aaaaah!"
I shouldn't have been able to hear that one scream over the din of the crowd, but somehow, I did. Before my horrified eyes, Adaira was hurled off her horse and disappeared into the crowd. My husband's entire body jerked as if hit by a whip.
"Adaira!"
---------------------------------
My dear Readers,
Keep your fingers crossed for Adaira, everyone! The rebellion has truly begun, and it is time for the real action to start! :)
Yours Truly
Sir Rob
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GLOSSARY:
"Hara kō'ī, mērā pālaṇa karō!" – Punjabi for "Everyone, follow me!"
"Sab log! Chalo sena ko salaam karate hain!" - Punjabi for "Everyone! Let's greet the army!"